Sourpuss
by CrimsonClarity
Summary: He's as fickle and mean-spirited as they come...and he's absolutely perfect. TyKa, one-shot. Full summary inside.


Title: Sourpuss

Association: Beyblade

Pairing: Tyson/Kai, TyKa

Short Summary: He's as fickle and mean-spirited as they come...and he's absolutely perfect. TyKa, one-shot.

Full Summary: Kai is thrown into a powerful spectrum of opportunity with power and love tugging at him from opposing ends. For the first time ever, the decision is entirely his to make. With options wide open and no outside influence, his future now rides on a leap of faith.

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**AN: **Okay everybody, so I've obviously been pretty unproductive lately as far as writing goes. Honestly, I'm really sorry about that, I've spent the last six months trying to get adjusted to my new military life (which isn't the greatest), and it has taken a lot of time out of my schedule. As far as writing before leaving for basic is concerned, well, I have no excuses. I simply fail at life. So this is a rather quickly written one-shot; I never write something this long in a matter of two days due to an extremely short attention span, but I was blessed with sudden inspiration for this after having failed to write this story the first time around. I've had the plans for it festering about for a while, and of course, this could probably be better, but it's decent. Yeah, we'll go with that.

Warnings: None; I like flames, constructive criticism, and poptarts. That is all.

Disclaimer: Bitch, I don't own shitttt.

* * *

_**Sourpuss**_

5AM. A routine wake-up to a not-so-routine day.

The Kinomiya household is extremely calm in the morning hours. The only sounds audible are my shallow breaths and the occasional shuffle of Gramps' footsteps in the dojo. I've been sleeping in the guest bedroom since the end of the third World Tournament, not really sure where to go from there. In a sense, I feel miserable being here, knowing that I'm prolonging the inevitable, but it seems I can't force myself to move. I'm trapped here, but I want it that way.

Just a phoenix with clipped wings, is all.

For nearly two months now, I've been avoiding returning to Russia. Wouldn't you? What does that icy hellhole hold for me? Actually quite a bit, should I be ready to assume my new title: president of Biovolt.

The old man kicked the bucket just days after the WT. Not that I cared. Takao tried to console me, but I assured him hastily that there was nothing to feel sorry about. Let's face it, the bastard deserved to die. When I say kicked the bucket, I mean something more along the lines of "taken out". One of Boris' henchmen out for his revenge, I suppose.

None of this is relevant.

The only thing relevant now appears to be my situation at hand. My impending demise. The death of all that I've worked for on my own as I watch my grandfather's fortune land at my feet, shrouding my accomplishments with his overwhelming financial success. Should I choose to return "home", as it were, and claim that fortune and the power that comes with it, I would be set for life. Perhaps that is interpreted as happiness for some.

I interpret this notion as metaphorical to a death sentence.

Because there, too, I would be trapped. But I wouldn't be trapped of my own accord as much as I would be by my responsibilities. Managing a corporation as large as Biovolt would be an honor to most, a challenge to others, but for me it spells misery. Pure, unabridged misery. I don't always play by the rules, as one might notice. I play in accordance to whatever I see as self-gain. If it gets the win, it doesn't necessarily matter how it was obtained. You wouldn't think that of a 2nd place finisher to the Beyblading World Tournament, but when it comes to the real world, I do as I please.

Is it wrong that my heart aches at the thought of leaving Japan?

I don't know what it is exactly that's had me here for so long. Indecision, of course, but where is the turmoil? What have I to gain from remaining here? A part of me speculates that even in death, I feel it necessary to go against Voltaire's wishes. He would want to see me in his office atop Biovolt Headquarters, watching from far below as I wither down to the ground level at which he now resides. I can't spare him that luxury. The concept of heaven and hell may be a hoax, but the possibility that it _may _exist haunts me when I consider turning into his protégé. I'll be damned if I turn into a megalomaniac. Again, anyway. So what was I getting at? Oh yes, turmoil. The other part of this argument? It's not yet taken a form. I'm aware that spiting my grandfather isn't my only reason for staying, but I've not yet figured out what my other reason, or reasons, may be.

And so on and so forth. I babble far too much.

My eyes are narrow that morning as I amble to the coffee-maker and prepare it for brewing. I've not had a good night's rest, as one might tell. These conflicting thoughts have begun to interfere with my everyday life, and it's starting to cause a rift. Perhaps several.

I hum quietly to myself as I finish pouring the water into the back of the maker, not really sure how to go about things. I've recently gotten in touch with Mstislav Vasiliev, the man currently managing my grandfather's affairs since his death. He is also the one who's been running the company in my absence. Today he is to arrive in Tokyo so that he and I may discuss the future of Biovolt, the date of my return, and other pressing matters that I'd rather not bother with. We were talking to one another just a couple of days ago over the phone when Takao had dropped in on our conversation. I was speaking Russian of course, so he couldn't understand a word I said, but over time I fear he's become so accustomed to my facial expressions that he's got me figured out much like a Rubix cube. I believe it was this knowledge that led to his questioning.

A flashback, if you will.

* * *

"Hey, Kai," Takao took a seat next to me on the small, two-person couch and leaned back, placing his hands behind his head, "If you don't mind me askin', who was that?"

"Nobody, don't worry about it," I took a deep, strained breath, not helping myself in the slightest. The palm holding my cell phone was drenched with sweat and fear.

"Oh, give it up, I know what that tense look on your face means. C'mon Kai, don't play me, what's goin' on?"

Honesty is the best policy, right?

"Well," I drawled slowly, thinking thoroughly through my next choice of words, "You know about what happened with Voltaire."

"I remember."

"And you realize just how powerful of a man he was, correct?"

"Of course," I watched Takao's dark brown eyes swirl with ravaging, untamed thoughts, "But what does that have to do with-"

"-Takao," I interrupted, not in the mood for his stupidity at the moment, "That was one of my grandfather's most trusted higher-ups. He's been running Biovolt since Voltaire's death, but-"

"-But that's not his job. It's yours, right?" His intuition blind-sighted me. I watched Takao's expression go from intent to something...somber. A storm was brewing. "You're the only heir, aren't cha?"

"Yeah," I muttered miserably, feeling a churning sensation in the pit of my stomach and attempting to will it away. A fail at best.

"So what're ya gonna do?"

The words fell off his tongue in a meek, un-Takao-like nature. Somewhat like a whisper. His hands were now clinching the dirty, worn-out knees of his jeans as though bracing himself. Why did he look so angry?

"I-," I struggled with my words, a battle I had rarely fought before, "He's coming to Japan. I don't know what I'm gonna do yet. I really shouldn't wear out my welcome..."

"Kai, how can someone so frickin' smart be so stupid?" Takao had jumped up and stood squarely in front of me, hands on his hips. I would've laughed about his unintentional impression of Hiromi if I hadn't been in slight shock at his reaction. "You know you're always welcome here! Gramps and I don't mind it a bit! An-," His voice trailed, going soft once more, "And I know you got a lot on your plate. If you have to leave-,"

"-I never said that. I said we'd talk. I make no promises." I stood, pushing my rival back a pace or two and sliding past him. I was almost out of the living room until I heard his shaky breath and quivering words.

"Lemme rephrase my question: What do you _want_ to do, Kai?"

I turned around and saw Takao with his head down, his fists clenched as his bangs hid all but his mouth from my sight. From what I could see, it was a pained expression. I knew him too well. After all, it wouldn't be the first time I've abandoned him. When Max and Rei left, yes, Takao was furious, but he was also thrilled with the thought of facing them with their home teams. But when I left too, I watched his little dream world shatter. He wanted to face me as much as I wanted to face him, but there was a part of him that had begged me to stay as well. I could've stayed then, but I had too much to prove to myself at the time. Now that I'd realized my true potential and met my limitations, I no longer felt that need to run. Back then, I had wanted to leave.

But now that I finally wanted to stay, would I be able to? There were so many factors involved...

I didn't know how to put it without getting Takao's hopes up. "I'd like to do as I damn-well please. And if I have my way about this, I will."

"But what does that mean? Do you-,"

"-Takao," I warned, trying to steer him away from the subject for his own good, "Not now. He'll be here in a couple of days and we'll discuss it, that's all I can give you."

_'Such a fucking liar...'_

"Fine."

It was a reply through gritted teeth as he left the room, stomping out in the direction of the dojo and surely out the door to that as well. I heard it slam and flinched slightly, trying not to let his reactions get to me.

This has become increasingly difficult over the past couple of months. It's human reaction, is it not? To try to calm those around you? Those that you care for?

Wait, care for? Back up a minute.

And that just came out of _my_ mouth?

So be it.

Scene.

* * *

I take my seat at the table with a mug in hand and allow myself to take in the room and the pleasant scent accompanying it. The coffee is black, but weak. Bitter. A reflection of one's self. I take it all in.

I'm not quite ready to meet with Mstislav, but it must be done. I feel something nagging at my heart, not fully aware and yet painfully aware of its strength and purpose. I feel it torn by the grip of my grandfather.

My decision is set in stone.

* * *

We converse and argue amongst one another at a local café, thumbing through documents and photos and discussing what could easily be my most important decision ever over a pot of coffee. This coffee is weaker than that of home. Perhaps it's actually tea? I hadn't noticed. Either way, it speaks volumes and sets the mood for the meeting. I realize without fail that my stress levels are already rising. I'm burning up, not for a second believing that it's the warm liquid in my cup that brings the sensation. Mstislav and I speak intensely in our native tongue and my responses come solid, although my fingers are trembling and my pulse is bounding. My future rides on this sole decision.

He gathers the intimidating stack of papers, shakes my hand with a firm grasp and bids me farewell. I do the same. I leave the café with the word "moron" written all over my face, anxiety and indecision gnawing at my nerves, causing me take off at an alarming rate. I'm not ready for any of this.

So why am I sprinting?

I'm back at the Kinomiya residence just before ten and fling the door to the dojo open, heaving to catch my breath. I'm so worn by my journey back to the house that as I stumble in, I nearly trip over a small box on the floor. I halt. The box has holes in it and a handle at the top.

Is that a note?

I pick up the yellow sheet of notebook paper and my eyes fall on words that strangle me. Words that form a thick lump in my throat.

_Kai,_

_I just wanted to say sorry for how I acted the other night. I don't usually apologize for much, and you really don't either, but it wasn't right for me to explode like that. If I've ignored you, I'm sorry for that too. It's selfish to think that you won't leave again, and I'm wrong for thinking it. You've got your own life to worry about now. To make it up to you, I got you this. I actually found him on the side of the road and thought of you. He's kinda mean and a little bit shy, but I think you might get along since both of you are sourpusses, lol. Kinda wanted to name him, but he's yours. Hopefully you can take him back to Russia with you and make him a company mascot or something. Oh, and be careful, he likes to bite. _

_With love,_

_Takao_

My heart stops here.

Not at the word "love", but at the name that resides below it. I feel my throat clench tightly shut and look up as a soft chuckle comes from the doorway in front of me. He sees the stunned look on my face before I have the chance to recover and a slow smile brightens his otherwise sullen disposition. He's leaned against the door frame, slouched really, his baseball cap pulled low over his forehead so that once again, his bangs shadow his eyes. This is good for me. I'm terrified to see those eyes at the moment.

"Well, you gonna at least look at 'im? I thought he'd be your type." The hurt words fail to match the sweet pseudo-smile plastered on his face.

I nod once and bend down, kneeling on the wooden floor and opening the box to find a plump gray kitten. It gazes at me calmly with cool green eyes, forcing me to abandon the lost feeling settling in my chest and pick it up, demanding my full attention. The damn thing purrs almost immediately. It's short-haired and vibrates more violently than my cell phone. It's cute as all hell.

Takao appears to have lied to me.

"Psh, this kitten isn't like me in the least. Not a damn bit of stinginess in it," I mutter as I stroke its neck, trying to show little satisfaction in the feelings it invokes. I stand with the creature in my arms and stare down Takao, who has finally made his way over towards us and is standing nearly shoulder to shoulder with myself, peering over the side of my arm to observe his gift in action. I sigh. "You know I can't accept this, right?"

"Why not? Not mean enough for ya, Kai? I swear, you guys must just have a bond or something, 'cause he already scratched the hell outta me today. Maybe he only likes you," Takao looked up and met my stare. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

I grin, scratching the gray mass beneath the chin and listening to its voracious purr intensify. "The kitten has to stay here. I'll come check up on him from time to time."

I watch Takao's face fall and sense a looming disaster. "B-but...how often?"

"Oh, I dunno," I place the adorable nuisance down and watch it wander. It reminds me of Takao himself. "At least once a day, that much I can promise."

Chocolate meets cherry. A succulent blend.

"So, you're staying?" His voice can't possibly contain his excitement.

"Yes, which leads me to my next point." I pick up the note, fold it, and place in it my pocket. "Next time you decide to leave me a note, it had damn-well better say 'welcome home', not 'kiss ass, ttyl.'"

A giggle erupts. "I think I can manage that."

And a cheeky grin tells me I've made the right decision.

"Oh, one last thing..."

I lock my fingers into the belt loops around Takao's waist and draw him towards me, exhaling a deep, warm breath into the crook of his neck. I watch goosebumps litter his exposed skin, his body tingling with anticipation. The next words are breathless.

"...Which is?"

A smirk tears at my lips. "From now on, every note had better have the word 'love' at the end of it."

**FIN**

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**AN: **Honestly, I'm not going to ask you to R&R. It'd be pretty unfair on my part. I'm usually reading Fanfiction shit from my iPhone, so I very rarely leave reviews simply because it's a pain in the ass to do so without an actual keyboard. I have plans to go back and review stories I've faved once I have wifi again, but we'll see. Anyway, hope you guys liked it. Deuces.

-PD


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